All language subtitles for Elementary - 5x13 - Over a Barrel.HDTV.DIMENSION.en

Hi, how can I help you?

I'm looking for
Sherlock Holmes.

My name's Jack Brunelle.

I was hoping he could
help me with a case.

18 months ago, my son was
assaulted by a man

in a ski mask outside
a deli in Queens.

They tell me
Mr. Holmes is

the secret weapon
of the NYPD.

I was hoping he could help
identify my son's attacker.

Um, I'd really love
to help you,

but we're smack
in the middle of something.

A man in Riverdale
was murdered

over a priceless
Mongolian fossil.

I know you're busy,
but it would only

take a few minutes.

Excuse me.
Hey, Sherlock.

Yes, I am on my way.

Mr. Brunelle, maybe you
can come back another time?

This guy was
at the door.

Says he absolutely needs
to talk to you.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

I'm Jack Brunelle.

Mr. Brunelle, yes.

You wrote to me
several times.

Your son Connor was attacked,
ended up in a coma,

and when he finally
regained consciousness,

he was addicted
to painkillers, right?

And then heroin.

He died from an overdose
less than a year later.

Oh, I'm truly sorry.

Connor was murdered.

Now, you can draw
a straight line

from the assault
to his death,

but the police
treated it like

it was just another
mugging.

Still, we're kind of in the
middle of something right now.

Could you have your son
maybe wait outside?

Gross!

Mason is not my offspring.

He's a budding
computer scientist.

He's helping me evaluate
the artificial intelligence

of that doll,

as part of a murder
investigation.

I receive many
inquiries like yours.

Unfortunately,
circumstance dictates that

I can only apply my talents
where they are most needed.

I need your talents.

Connor needs
your talents.

Well, you have my genuine
sympathy, Mr. Brunelle,

but I'm sorry,

you can't have
my help.

Mr. Brunelle, I admire
your persistence,

but I'm afraid human nature
hasn't changed

since your last visit.

We remain awash
with murder.

You're carrying
a roller derby roster?

Yes, one of those
women was

strangled to death
and dumped in a river.

It's just that the statute
of limitations

on my son's case
is getting close,

and no one's making
any progress.

The state of New York
allows you five years

to start assault
proceedings.

After that, the attacker
can't be prosecuted.

He's free.

My son was assaulted
in January of 2012,

which means I have
less than a year

to find his attacker

before the statute
of limitations expires.

Mr. Brunelle,
I understand your dilemma.

You feel a great pressure
to right a criminal wrong,

but Watson and I are
struggling to solve

two murders at the moment.

There might come a time
when we can offer some help,

but I'm afraid it isn't today.

All right, everybody,
get your hands up!

Get 'em up!
I said get 'em up!

Get 'em up!
Get your hands up!

Up! Up!

Oh, my God.

Stop, please.
Don't hurt anyone.

I can open
the cash register.

I don't want money.

Then what do you want?

Sherlock, Joan.

Half hour ago, a man
with a shotgun walked in

- and took the place over.
- What does he want?

You.

Guy's name is
Jack Brunelle.

He told the hostage
negotiator

he wanted to talk
to Sherlock Holmes

and Joan Watson, or he was
gonna start shooting people.

He's asked for our help
many times.

I guess he got tired
of being polite about it.

He's got 20 hostages.

We should talk to him.

You're not
going anywhere.

Let's get you
on the phone first.

He'll just demand
that we go in.

If Brunelle wanted
to kill us,

he's had ample opportunity.

He doesn't want us dead.

He wants us working.

Hands on the counter.

Long way to go to hire
a couple of detectives,

don't you think?

Sit.

I've been trying to get you
to help me for years.

Well, you sure as hell
can't ignore me now.

You're gonna figure out
what happened to Connor.

Even if you found the person
who assaulted your son,

that's all we can charge him
with-- assault, not murder.

Well, he could
go to jail for years.

If he's got priors,
it could be decades.

You don't know what will happen
when you find him.

Nobody does.

But we're gonna find out,

or I'm gonna shoot
all of these people.

Some of Connor's old things.

Might be a good
place to start.

All right...

let's go.

No. You go.

You're staying.
What?

Your partner dies
with everybody else

if you don't deliver.

If I don't deliver,

it will be
because she stays.

We work as a team.

I require her counsel.

Well, you can have it
anytime you want.

By phone.

I'll keep her close to me.

Make sure she doesn't
miss a call.

Go.

We'll be fine.

Oh, one more thing.

What?

My son was attacked exactly
five years ago today.

Which means the statute
of limitations

on his assault
runs out at midnight.

That's why we're here.

Today is the last day
anyone can help Connor.

It's five after 8:00.

You got about

16 hours

to find the man
who attacked my son.

And if you don't...

I'll start shooting.

♪ Elementary 5x13 ♪
Over a Barrel
Original Air Date on January 29, 2017

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Finally dug up
the original paperwork

on Connor Brunelle's
assault.

The case was opened
on January 29, 2012,

by Detective Donald Andrews
in the 107th precinct.

I hate to cast judgment
on a brother in blue,

but doesn't look like
Detective Andrews

lost much sleep
on this one.

I doubt there's much here
that's gonna help us.

You think Brunelle
will go through with it?

Is he really gonna
shoot 20 people

if we don't solve this case?

Doesn't matter what I think.
Armed standoffs have a habit

of ending unpredictably.

You got something?

Text messages
from five years ago

between Connor and
a Dario Canales.

Mr. Canales appears to be
a lawyer of some kind.

Now, at first glance,
the messages,

they're quite harmless.

“Bring issue 622
of Linden Law Review at 5:15.

Hoyt Trial,
February 12, 9:00”.

There are several clues,
however, that indicate

these are more than
just scheduling banalities.

Such as?

The Linden Law Review
is not a real publication.

Also, there were no trials
in New York on February 12.

Why is that?

Abraham Lincoln's birthday.

New York is one
of seven states

which observes it
as a holiday,

and all the courthouses
are closed.

Mm, you know, Linden
and Hoyt are

both streets in Brooklyn.

These texts could be
setting up meetings.

622 Linden Avenue, 5:15.

12 Hoyt Street, 9:00 a.m.

Let me guess, you're already
two steps ahead of me.

At least two.

All right, so why all
the secrecy in the messages?

I suspect Connor
and Dario were lovers.

Dario was married.

He has been since
New York passed

the Marriage Equality Act.

The final messages
grow tense.

I suspect the affair
ended poorly.

If Dario was unhappy
about the breakup,

that would give him motive
to want to hurt Connor.

We should track this guy down.
Mm-hmm.

He's at the New York
County Supreme Court,

arguing a case there today,
according to his Twitter feed.

Yes,

I was seeing Connor,

but I didn't attack him.

I loved him.

Mr. Canales,
you're a lawyer.

You know very well
that love is often

the motive for the most
gruesome of crimes.

It is, but I was on vacation

in Aruba when it happened.

Check my credit
card statements.

I have photos, too.

The man in the diner,
you said he'd

give you till midnight,
right?

I'll answer your questions
all day long,

but I'm telling you right now
I'm not your guy.

All right, well,
what about your husband?

We cracked the code
you two used.

Maybe he did, too.

I told you I was on vacation
in Aruba when it happened.

Who do you think I was
on vacation with?

Your affair with Connor
ended in 2012.

So what happened?

Law school didn't
work out,

so he took some job
at a warehouse in Red Hook.

The graveyard shift,
and he worked crazy hours.

It made it impossible
to see each other.

Wait, back up a sec.

What do you mean
“law school didn't work out”?

When the second year began,

he couldn't keep up
with the work.

Started missing classes,

failing tests.

After a few months,
they kicked him out.

His father didn't know.
Nobody knew.

Connor was too embarrassed
to tell anyone.

I'm sure people would have
figured it out soon enough,

except he was attacked
just after it happened,

and was dead
less than a year later.

Tell us more about this
warehouse where he worked.

May I?

Sherlock, you're on speaker.

Mr. Brunelle, your son
failed out of law school

and was working at a warehouse
in Red Hook

at the time of the attack.

What?

He never told you
about that job,

but it's possible you saw
some evidence lying around.

So, I'm gonna read you the names

of some businesses
from that area.

Stop me if anything
sounds familiar.

Grimwald Partners,
Hardcastle Beam,

Morgan and Holt.

Wait, wait,
wait, wait.

Morgan and Holt.

Connor had a hat
with that written on it.

I thought it was a law firm.

You think this job
has something to do

with Connor's assault?

That's precisely the question

we're trying to answer.

I'll check in with you

once we've paid a visit
to Morgan and Holt.

Is it okay if
I make some coffee?

No.

It's 10:30,

we've been here
for two and a half hours.

I'm not asking you

to set everyone free, just...

some coffee,
maybe a bathroom break.

So, what do you do for work?

Don't do that.

Do what?

I'm not your friend.

I'm the guy
who's a half a day away

from shooting a diner
full of people.

Yeah, I don't know.

You don't know what?

I don't know if you're actually
gonna kill anybody.

You're doing this
because you love your son.

You want justice.

You're desperate, but...

you don't strike me
as the type of person

that would murder
innocent strangers.

That bulge
in your jacket pocket,

that's an extra box
of shotgun shells.

You can't be carrying
more than 12.

There are 20 hostages

in this diner.

21, including me.

Now, you don't have
enough ammunition

to kill everyone here,
because you have no intention

of killing
everyone here.

Yeah, you got me
all figured out.

I'm not a threat.

What if I told you
you're right?

I don't plan to kill all the
hostages if your partner fails.

I just plan to kill him.

And who is he?

Donald Andrews.

Retired NYPD.

He's the detective who caught
my son's case five years ago

and did nothing!

You were content
to just sit on your ass,

while the man
who attacked my son went free.

You tied him up
because you know him.

I had enough of his excuses
for one lifetime.

You say I didn't
bring enough

ammo for everyone in the diner?

Well, that may be.

But I sure as hell
brought enough for him.

Yeah, I remember Connor.
Good kid.

A real shame,
what happened to him.

Well, we were told

he was working here at
the time of his assault.

He was the overnight
security guard.

Though, to be honest, there
wasn't much for him to guard.

What do you mean?

Well, this company's
on its last legs.

Has been for a decade now.

Not a whole lot of product
coming through the door.

I only pay
an overnight guard

to keep an eye
on the building at night.

Make sure teenagers
don't vandalize it,

that sort of thing.

Can you confirm that Connor
would have been working

the night
that he was assaulted?

Yeah, he would
have been.

Hmm. So, he was assaulted

just hours before
his shift was due to start.

Did you have to find
a replacement that night?

Hard enough
finding one guy to do the job.

Good luck finding a second
at the eleventh hour.

So it's safe
to assume, then,

that the night he was attacked,

this place was left unguarded

until
the next morning?

Yeah, probably.

Thank you very much.

What's up?

I think the purpose
of Connor's assault

was to ensure that
this warehouse

was left wholly unguarded

on a particular night
five years ago.

We're gonna go discern why.

There a... reason you've got
a totem pole in your bathroom?

It's too big
for the closet.

Hmm.

What am I
looking at?

It's New York
from above.

This is a small

fragment of the
thousands of hours

of covert surveillance footage
recorded by the FBI

and their fleet of drones.

They do so over many
major U.S. cities.

All in the name
of homeland security. Hmm.

This particular clip
was recorded

January 29, 2012.

The night Connor was attacked.

Mm-hmm. This is the warehouse

we visited earlier.

I'm hoping this
will give me

some insight as to why someone

wanted it left unguarded
that night.

Where the hell did you get this?

Agent McNally of the NSA. Shh.

He owed me a favor, I helped
untangle a rather ugly incident

involving Belgium,
the Dalai Lama,

and a stolen wheel
of priceless cheese.

What incident was that?

Exactly.

Are those boats?

Shipping barges.

And those are
barrels, right?

This looks like some kind
of smuggling operation.

The barrels are
being loaded onto trucks.

There must be
a thousand barrels.

Any idea what's inside 'em?

Could be anything.

Whatever it is,

there's a lot of it.

I count a dozen
tractor-trailers.

Those things can carry
80,000 pounds apiece.

The single
biggest cache

of smuggled goods on record
is the 1989 Sylmar bust.

ATF agents found 20 tons
of cocaine

in a Californian warehouse.

Now, given the sheer
number of barrels,

and the holding capacity
of a dozen trucks,

this could dwarf that.

So, the assault
on Connor Brunelle

was garden-variety,
but it might be connected

to what could be

the single largest smuggling
payload in American history.

So there's a dozen
Kenworth T440 trucks

with Paccar PX-8 engines
and fixed grill hoods.

But you already know that,
Mr. Trimble.

According to the DMV,

the rental company you work for
is the only business

in the area with a fleet

of those
specific vehicles.

Five years ago,

these trucks
were used in a smuggling plot,

to bring hundreds
of steel barrels

by boat,
into New York.

Says who?

Says the photographs
you're holding.

They were taken
the night of the operation.

You managed the fleet
for the company, Frank.

Signing trucks in and out,
scheduling maintenance.

We're told a vehicle
doesn't leave the lot

without your say-so.

Which means you were very likely
involved in the plot.

So here's the deal.

You tell us about the plot,

what was in those barrels,

who attacked
Connor Brunelle,

and we'll tell the D.A.
how helpful you were

in saving the lives
of 20 people.

Okay, look...

those are my trucks,
but I swear to you,

I wasn't involved
in any smuggling plot.

That was the Shoreline 99s.

The gang from South Queens,
those Shoreline 99s?

They used to run cocaine

in the neighborhood
around our company.

One night, around
ten years back,

a few of 'em show
up on my lot

and tell me that I got
to let them use my trucks

whenever they want,

to move their drugs
around or whatever.

I tried to say no, they
threatened to kill me.

Said they knew
where I lived.

After that, I'd
get messages

saying to leave keys
in certain vehicles.

The trucks vanished
that night,

would be back
in the morning.

I didn't know where they went
or what they were used for.

I just did what I was told
so I didn't get hurt.

So, you said that
they used to run cocaine

in your neighborhood.

I stopped hearing
from them

right after this smuggling
thing you're talking about.

They dropped
off the map.

Even if I wanted to find them,
I wouldn't know where to look.

So the Shoreline 99s

pull the biggest smuggling
caper in American history

and then disappear.

Perhaps the two events
are related.

The Shoreline 99s disappeared
because they pulled

the biggest smuggling caper
in American history.

Landing that big score allowed
them to cash out and move on?

Wouldn't be the first criminals
to retire.

I was wondering if the
Shoreline 99s' vanishing act

was less voluntary
than that.

During my first year
as a detective,

I caught a couple gang
shootings that went down

on Shoreline 99 turf.

They were at war with
a Nicaraguan gang

called “Santo Matón”,

over the drug game
in South Queens.

From what I remember,
Santo Matón was winning.

So you think they were
hunted to extinction?

Wouldn't be the first time
one gang wiped out another.

If that's how it went
down in this case,

Santo Matón would be

the best source of info
on our missing gangsters.

You know,
I'll reach out

to a friend
in Narcotics,

see if he can make contact
with the Nicaraguans.

Can't exactly go
walking into gang territory

with a sign that says,
“Looking for bad guys.”

This is a bad idea.

Don't have time
for good ideas.

Jack Brunelle's
clock is ticking.

You've got us both.

Mr. Brunelle?
By way of an update,

uh, we believe
that your son was assaulted

as part of a smuggling plot by
a gang called the Shoreline 99s.

My colleague and I,

we're zeroing in on them
as we speak.

I'll call you back.

Get in.

And you are?

That one.

Yeah, I though you said we were
just gonna talk to these guys.

I did and we shall.

You really think
it's a good idea

to drive off
with them?

I think Watson's life
is at stake,

as are the lives
of 20 other people.

You comin'?

So, how long have you
been sick, Jack?

The red lesion behind
your right ear,

it's a marker for
basal cell carcinoma.

Skin cancer.

Doesn't look like you've
been treating it, either.

Is that why you're
taking this risk?

The ultimatum,
the hostages?

You think you're gonna
die soon anyway.

Is that it?

Do you have any idea
what it's like to lose a child?

If you ask any parent

if they would die in place
of a daughter or a son,

I guarantee you
the answer would be yes.

And do you know why?

It's not because of honor,

or duty,

or parental responsibility.

It's because it's easier.

It's easier to die
than it is to be left behind.

Every morning
since Connor passed away,

I wake up and I wish
it was me instead of him.

So, no.

Answer to your question,

I'm not treating my skin cancer.

Does that mean
I'm gonna die soon?

I don't know.

But a guy can hope, right?

I'm told you're looking for us.

Just as a means to an end.

And what end is that?

The Shoreline 99s.

What about them?

Well, given
your group's

long and bumpy
history with them,

we were wondering if you
knew where to find them.

I wish I could.

I'd love nothing more
than to sit back

and watch the NYPD stomp
a mudhole in those boys.

Truth is,

we ain't seen them in years.

That 'cause you wiped
them all out?

That's because they disappeared.

One day, they were crawling
all over our turf,

sticking their noses
where they don't belong,

the next,

poof, gone.

And good riddance,
as far as I'm concerned.

Where was the last place
you saw any of their members?

They used to roll
out of a spot down on 160th,

just past Brinkerhoff.

No point in writing
that down, man.

Building ain't there no more.

They bulldozed it.

You used to be a member
of the Shoreline 99s.

Could you be
of assistance?

What?

Well, all the members
have the same tattoo,

the triangle on your... neck.

It's a nod to the
intersection in Queens

where the, uh,
gang first formed.

And yours is... it's
been lasered off,

but you still have
the, uh, scar, so...

You know where they are?

That true, Reggie?

Yeah.
I-I was in the Shoreline 99s.

But look, I was 16 years old,
all right? I...

You know, corner boy.

I mean, mostly. But you know,
five years ago,

these guys at the top,
they gathered us all together

and they told us it was over,
all right?

They were disbanding
the gang.

They say why?

No, man. They just cut us
loose. All right?

And that was that. I got rid
of my tat, and I joined up

with these boys,
and I've been here ever since.

I've been loyal ever since.

When was the last
time you saw anyone

from the Shoreline 99s?

Maybe two years ago.

The leader of the gang, Terrell,

I remember,
he told me I owed him money,

so he wanted
to meet up.

Meet him where?

The manager
remembers Terrell Martin.

Said he used to come here
all the time.

“Used to”"

Manager says she hasn't
seen him in years.

Got to think
she's telling the truth.

I poked around a little inside,

didn't see anything
out of place.

If Shoreline 99 is using
this spot as a front,

they're doing a hell
of a good job hiding it.

Nothing to hide. They're
not using that place.

I think they might
be using that place.

Public records indicate that
building was foreclosed on

a decade ago. Yet,
the front door is secured

with brand new Medeco-
shrouded padlock shackles,

and there are four Arecont
Vision Dome Cameras

around the perimeter.

Someone has gone
to a lot of bother

to roll out
the unwelcome mat.

And you think that someone
is the Shoreline 99s.

Terrell asked Reggie to meet
him at this donut shop,

and we thought they were
using it as as a gang front.

Well, I think it might
be gang front adjacent.

Terrell holds
his meetings here

because it's across
the street from the place

Shoreline 99 does control.

Is it just me, Detective
Bell, or do you hear that?

Hear.. what?

The sound of evidence
being destroyed?

It's coming from
inside that building.

Thank heavens the Supreme
Court 2011 ruling

in Kentucky v. King
grants us probable cause

to search the premises in
precisely this situation.

Well, now we know
where those barrels ended up.

What do we got?

Cocaine?

Afraid not.

What is it, then?

It's maple syrup.

How did it go with CSU?

We searched that
building top to bottom,

found plenty more barrels,
but not much else.

You came back here
to eat pancakes?

Maple syrup. I had an idea.

The problem with maple syrup
is that the natural production

of it varies wildly

from year to year.

To combat this issue,
the Federation

of Quebec Maple Syrup Producers

modulates production
of the stuff.

They set production quotas.

Now, these quotas have
no doubt helped some artisans,

but it also punishes others
because they're unable to sell

their surplus supply.

So it ends up getting sold
on the black market

alongside drugs
and guns. I know.

Obviously, that's what
the Shoreline 99s' leadership

was up to five years ago.

The question is, what does
that have to do with this?

Well, I tasted some of the
Shoreline 99s' maple syrup

before I left their building.

It has a woody,
vanilla essence, with a hint

of crushed leaves.

If I can identify a batch
of syrup from one of the...

city's many
pancake dispensaries,

with the same flavor profile...

You'll know who's buying the
Shoreline 99s' illegal syrup.

And from there, it should be...

That's a match.

Which restaurant?

Crescent Moon Cafe
in Greenpoint.

I'll send patrol over there,
see if we can get the name

of whoever's delivering
their syrup.

The hell am I doing here?

You're about to be arrested
for trafficking stolen property

and violating
federal customs laws.

You've been selling illegal
Canadian maple syrup

to The Crescent Moon Cafe
in Greenpoint,

as well as a number
of other places, I'm sure.

We just confiscated a few
hundred barrels of the stuff

at your stash house in Queens.

On top of that,

there are several outstanding
warrants for your arrest

from your days as a member
of the Shoreline 99s.

When all is said and done,
you're looking

at some pretty serious
jail time.

The dark cloud
that you find yourself under

does, however,
have a silver lining...?

You help us with our case,
and we'll put in a good word

with the district attorney.

Maybe he goes easy on you
when the time comes.

What case?

Five years ago, the
Shoreline 99s smuggled a load

of maple syrup into New York.

Interesting move for a group
that dealt in cocaine.

Yeah, the drug game
was good to us at first.

You know, we sold our product,
made decent money,

didn't ruffle any feathers.

Then these young guns show up,
start muscling in on our turf.

Santo Matón.
Yeah. Killer Saint.

Emphasis on the “Killer.”
Those guys are nuts, man.

It's all “Shoot first,
ask questions never” with them.

You know, pretty soon,
we spending more time

dodging bullets
than we are selling coke.

Felt like living
in a war zone.

So when our leader, Terrell,
said he had a way to get out,

we was, like, “Yeah.”

The syrup heist was his idea?

No, a friend of his.
This guy, you know,

he had all the details
figured out.

Knew where to get the syrup,
how to get the boats,

where to bring it
once it was on shore.

He just needed a bunch
of guys to pull off the heist.

So he brought it to Terrell.

Terrell picked ten of us
and sent everybody else home.

Just like that.

No more Shoreline 99s.

So, ten of us
pulled the heist,

and for the last five years,

we've been selling off
the syrup barrel by barrel.

No more gang wars,
no more shootings.

Best part is,

syrup never
goes bad.

Part of your plan
involved assaulting

a warehouse security guard
named Connor Brunelle.

Yeah, Terrell's friend
handled that part.

Said he knew where
to find the guy,

knew how to make sure he didn't

show up for work.

Terrell was sure
his friend could handle it.

He told us this one story
where, supposedly,

the guy got into a bar fight
and wound up taking down,

like, four bouncers,
two Rottweilers,

and half a dozen
other guys

all by himself.

He was a bruiser.

Did this bruiser have a name?

Terrell wouldn't tell us.

Guy didn't want a bunch of thugs
being able to ID him

just in case
something went wrong.

That was part
of the deal.

So Terrell Martin
is the only person

who can identify
this silent partner,

the man who assaulted
Connor Brunelle.

So where is Terrell now?

Groveton Cemetery.

He died in a car crash
about a year ago.

Ramesh is a friend
from med school.

He specializes in Mohs
micrographic surgery.

It's an advanced
technique

to remove basal cell carcinoma.

Listen, Jack.

I'm not gonna pretend I know

what it's like to lose a child.

I've been around
plenty of people who have.

I know it gets
better with time.

However this thing turns out,
Ramesh can help you.

40 minutes.

Marcus!

Hey.
August 23, 2009.

A man is watching a hockey game
in a bar in Harlem.

It is Montreal's Canadiens
against New York's Rangers.

Midway through, three Ranger
fans start mocking our man,

a Canadiens supporter,
over the poor play of his team.

Alcohol is consumed,
threats are made.

A confrontation begins.

Our Canadiens fan battles
all three Ranger enthusiasts,

as well as two bouncers,
a bartender, and a stray beagle

that had wandered
into the bar.

Oh, wait. Holmes, you...

Terrell Martin's story
about his silent partner

beating up a bar
all by himself is true.

Or at least some version of it.
I began exploring the notion

when I recalled the writings of
19th century Russian occultist

Helena Blavatsky.

To paraphrase:
no myth is wholesale fable.

Even the most fanciful legends
begin as a small grain of truth.

She was right,
and thankfully so, as her words

have led us
directly to our culprit.

At the end of the confrontation,

several of the belligerents
were arrested,

including Terrell Martin's
silent partner.

Or as we know him better,
Frank bloody Trimble.

Look at these.

Welts and bruises on Frank's
victims at the bar are identical

to marks found on
Connor Brunelle.

Same irregular shape

of the first metacarpophalangeal
joint here.

Same length
of the fourth metacarpal, here.

Same distance between the major
and minor knuckles, here.

These bruises were made
by the same hands.

Frank Trimble's hands.
Frank is our culprit.

He's the one
who assaulted Connor Brunelle.

Uh...

Sherlock,
that was the captain who called.

It's 12:05.

We missed the deadline.

It's Sherlock.

Hey.

You're unharmed?
So far, yes.

Mr. Brunelle, it's over.
We've solved your case.

Your son was assaulted
by a man named Frank Trimble.

It doesn't matter anymore!

It's past midnight. You failed.

- You need to give us more time.
- No.

I gave you plenty of time.

Years.

I waited on you.

Now you gonna wait on me.

I know nothing's happened yet,
Tommy.

The idea's to get my guys
inside before anything does.

It's ten minutes
past the deadline

and Jack Brunelle
hasn't fired a shot.

You send a team
through that door,

and that's gonna change
real quick.

I send a team in, we're all
safe at home inside an hour.

There are 20 hostages
inside that building.

One of them is a friend of mine.

If Brunelle doesn't
have a reason

to kill anybody, I don't
want you giving him one.

Hey, Captain.

What?

There's something
you should see.

The tablecloth came down

a few minutes ago,

but doesn't look like anybody
on the inside's noticed yet.

Might give you a view
into the diner.

Hold the entry.

Get me a sniper.

Come here.

Get on the ground.

Jack, what are you doing?

Jack, stop!

I'm doing exactly what I said
I was gonna do.

I've spent
hundreds of hours

trying to get police
to look at Connor's case.

I wrote letters.
I printed flyers.

I even posted online.

None of it made a difference.

So, you tell me, Joan,

what am I supposed to do?

Do you really think that
Connor would want you

to kill an innocent man?

He's not innocent!

Connor was lying

in a hospital bed, half dead,

while he did nothing.

Don't! Please!

That makes him pretty guilty
in my book.

Guilty of being a bad cop.

Okay? Yes.

But that does not earn him

a death sentence.

You know that, Jack.
I don't know anything.

Stop telling me
what I'm thinking!

However angry that you are

about what happened to your son,

you're not gonna feel better
by killing this man. Okay?

Stop moving, Jack.

If you take another step,

a sniper outside
will blow your head off.

I am really sorry...

...about how your son died.

I really am.

But you know...

...that this is no way
to honor his memory.

You just saved my life.

Put the gun down.

Please.

You okay?

Not really.

You did good in there.

Can't sleep?

Apparently, you can't, either.

What's all this?

Oh, I'm, uh, reexamining
the paperwork

on the Connor
Brunelle assault.

Why? Jack Brunelle is in jail.

We know that Frank Trimble
assaulted his son,

but the statute of limitations
has expired. It's over.

And yet I find myself
drawn to this case

for the uniquely challenging foe
it presents.

How is Frank Trimble
a “uniquely challenging foe”?

He's not. I'm referring
to time itself.

Oh.
As rivals go,

it's undefeated.

I just want you to know
that if you tell me

you're trying to build a flux
capacitor, I'm out of here.

Good night, Sherlock.

Good night, Watson.

What's that?

You're gonna need it later on.

I told you last night,
as adversaries go,

time itself
was undefeated...

but as of this morning, you
can consider it defeated.

I have scaled an
unscalable peak.

My ascent, however,

was not without
its metaphorical Sherpas.

I'm gonna take a wild guess,

and say that you got some help
from Everyone.

They were kind enough
to lend their assistance

on spec last night,
but when we are finished

arresting Frank Trimble for
his assault on Connor Brunelle,

we are going to have
to pay the piper.

How are we going
to arrest Frank Trimble?

Statute of limitations
has expired.

Hmm.

What did Everyone do for you?

There. That's you, Mr. Trimble,

at a Montreal Canadiens
playoff game

two and a half years ago.

Some tech-savvy friends
of mine found this footage

using facial recognition
software.

So yes, as I was looking
through the details

of your personal life,
I discovered

you're not just a hockey fan,
you are... you're a devotee.

You live and die the fortunes
of Les Habs, and...

well, you went
to attend a game

at the mecca
of French Canadian hockey.

We pulled your credit card
statements this morning.

You bought last-minute
tickets online.

You drove up
on a Friday,

you stayed overnight in a hotel,

and you drove back on Saturday.

So?

So the Canadiens play

in Canada, which means you
crossed an international border

to get to the game.

So?

Have you heard
of tolling, Mr. Trimble?

It's a legal term.

When a crime is committed...

Assault, for example.

...the statute of limitations
on that crime begins

the moment it is reported
and continues to count down

until the time expires.

Unless you leave
the country,

in which case the clock stops

for the time that you're away.

That time is “tolled.”

Tolling
stops people

from committing a crime,
leaving the country,

then returning Scot-free

after the statute of limitations
has expired.

Without it,
people could commit a crime

- without any repercussions.
- When you went

to that game, you left
the country for 27 hours.

So that means
the statute of limitations

for the assault you committed
against Connor Brunelle

five years ago is still active
for exactly that amount of time.

We can match the
bruises you left

on those guys in Harlem
after the bar fight

with the ones you left
on Connor Brunelle.

In other words,
you're under arrest.

And if you're still
unclear about the concept

of tolling, don't worry,
because the 20-odd years

you might get for criminal assault
in the first degree

should give you plenty of time
to work it out.

♪ Tropics... ♪

So, are we doing this?

We are.

Your phone rang.

Yeah, it was the captain.
He spoke to his friend

at the Department of
Corrections this morning.

They agreed
to let Ramesh

treat Jack's cancer
while he's in prison.

So he's gonna get
the surgery he needs.

Hmm.

Everyone?

Yes. They're ready.

Here's what
I don't get.

I mean, you could
shave your own head,

so why do I have to do it?
Mm...

partners in everything,
I suppose, Watson.

Okay, this is your last chance...

...to get out of it.

The humiliation will fade.

The satisfaction of putting
Frank Trimble

behind bars will not.

Now, let's get on with it.

♪ Window to another world ♪

♪ Mmm, tropics... ♪

♪ Off the map ♪

♪ Through the glass ceiling ♪

♪ On the right path... ♪

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man